She had been absent from her dysfunctional family among the crags for two seasons since Exodus had found her hunting that child wolf. He had called out for her as she fled the scene with her companion, tears streaming from her eyes by the wind. She had not cried over the dilemma for long due to fear that Sekhmet would notice sooner than later, but the shock and bereavement that came with the realization still clung to her soul.

After the incident, Myrria had vowed to stay away from the den where Exodus and her family made their home. She could not bear the thought of returning to her mother or to Lucia knowing what horrors he may have told them of her. They would never see her the same again, as Exodus now does, and perhaps would not even allow her to come back. She had forsaken herself before they ever could. It was far more difficult to stay away from them than she had first imagined; she saw herself as Lucia’s personal guardian, her ever present shadow. Her heart nearly ripped into shreds when refraining from checking on her younger half-sibling but, with all things, it became easier as time passed.

The fiery foliage of autumn had died out at the approach of a frigid winter and Myrria had remained in her self-inflicted state of desolation. Sekhmet was around to keep her warm and cared for but there was a gaping hole in the depths of her being that could not be filled. With the turning of winter to spring she had become focused on the idea of reaching out to her mother in the very least. The world around her had morphed from a frozen hell into something plentiful and vibrant; a change that inspired something within her. She would swallow the fear of disapproval from her family and stand up to tell her story. Perhaps then they would understand why she was… the way she was. She would not admit to being a monster.

There was an eagerness in her that sparked near overwhelming anxiety as she paced outside of one of the den sites that she and Sekhmet use from time to time. With a deep inhale and a sharp exhale of breath she takes off from the woodland and toward the crags that she knows so well. Her lithe figure has thinned over the past season from dejection and lack of desire. She would eat bits and pieces of carcasses that Sekhmet would bring to her but her companion was lucky if she ever ate a whole meal. There was a renewed hunger that burned in her belly today and part of it was the need to come home.

Home. If she could be in two places at once then it would make her life much easier. She was leading two lives, or she once was before Exodus found her out, and living in two separate places with entirely different individuals. It was exhausting while she was doing it, but now that she realizes one of those lives is likely lost she would do anything to get the chaos back.

Her ashen paws greet the stony exterior of the crags by mid-afternoon as she approaches from the east. She keeps well enough away from the den that is claimed by Exodus but wanders around the general vicinity in hopes that she may come across Malleah in private. She will not risk calling for her in the instance that Exodus may hear; before all else, she must explain herself to her mother. Of all creatures she should be most willing to offer an ear and hopefully some understanding.